I was riding a good cycle yesterday — write, read, exercise, check news, do other net things, play games, do chores, repeat. I’m reading Red Rising, an entertaining science fiction book while I navigate writing my own novel. With both hands functioning, I’ll write and edit six to seven pages a day, but the recovering left hand tires easily.
As always, reading — especially fiction — stimulates my writing. Also, my to-read list is piling up. After this is finished, I have Sansom’s Tombland awaiting on loan from the library, and Who Fears Death, and a stack of others.
Chores are always there, kitchen cleaning, vacuuming. We have three cats, males, who seem to be amazingly dirty, dragging bits of the outside in and gifting us a hairball.
Then news. Elections. Debates. COVID-19. Wildfires. Weather. Local issues. We’re mulling a move from the area, so we check places on line and think about the challenge of moving. A constant flow of information to absorb is flowing through the day.
In the middle of this, my brain decided to stream, “If You’re Gone” by Matchbox Twenty from 2000. Not unusual; my brain often likes to distract me with remembered news, music, or historic facts. Sometimes the roots to the why can be traced, or they’re readily apparent.
Not so, this time. Worse, it graduated from being a casual inner streaming distraction to a full-blown earworm. After burrowing in, it quieted for the night and then resumed this morning.
Urgent action required, I’m sharing “If You’re Gone” about Rob Thomas meeting his future wife with you to compel it to leave my head. It’s worked in the past.